


Dear Mother

by unassumingvenusaur



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Letter fic, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Sad catgirl feels o'clock, Supplemental Fic, WoL/Haurchefant briefly mentioned, resigned to death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:13:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28115190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unassumingvenusaur/pseuds/unassumingvenusaur
Summary: In the chance that she does not survive her adventure to the First, Sahri writes a letter to the woman who raised her.
Relationships: Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV) & Original Character(s)
Kudos: 8





	Dear Mother

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not really posting this as a standalone (and thus I won't be marking it as part of the series I started), but instead because I reference this letter a few times in other fics I've written. It will also be vital to the next one I plan to post. It's very deep into OC stuff so bear with me, and here's [Sahri's bio](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1UZhpjLBah1knD_vXLSQIdoieMg_nyG9-T89hPapFnX0/edit?usp=sharing) for some context!
> 
> Sahri writes this during the Rak'tika visit, some time between Eulmore showing up and defeat of the Lightwarden.
> 
> The Warrior of Light in this fic is named Sahri Rhoshaan.

Dear Lady Lukah,

Lady Lukah, if you are reading this letter, then I am truly sorry. I know I promised you when I first set out that I would always return home from my adventures. You’ve been so patient with me as they have brought me further and further afield, towards greater and greater dangers. This letter can only mean it has been one danger too many. 

As I write this, I know not what is happening to me. But I know it is not right, and I am not well. When I first arrived in this land, I sought to learn about it by communing with the elements of nature, sensing the flow of aether through the land, just as you taught me. Yet here, the course of nature is choked—nay, drowned—by the almighty light. Every square ilm of land, it is light, light, light, searing light. As I tried to understand its nature, I was startled by the feeling of almost being swept into this light. I had to be careful as I called upon my conjury, that the light did not overwhelm me. What I am feeling now is far worse. Light pulsing within me, begging to burst free. It is only by Hydaelyn’s blessing I can muster any control over it. I know not how this will end. I’ve heard my companions speak in hushed tones about me behind closed doors, not thinking I could hear. I’m certain they will be able to inform you as to the nature of my fate. I’ll know it too, when the day comes. But for now, every minute, every hour is an excruciating wait for the inevitable unknown.

I want you to understand why I choose to walk forward in spite of this. I know this will be difficult to hear, for you taught me much reverence for Nophica’s bounty at my own behest, but gods do not much avail me these days. Even Hydaelyn’s blessing I have grown a cynicism of—could it be that this “gift” is naught but the marker of a pawn, subject to the whims of an agenda I will never be privy to? Yet despite this skepticism, the fact remains that I do have these powers. Powers that give me the ability to do things no one else can. I became an adventurer because I wanted to find a way to truly help those in need, far beyond the humble methods of a priestess. This is the way. You know full well of the achievements ascribed to the Warrior of Light—albeit overcentralized on my efforts rather than those more deserving around me, I fear. And in this world, as I’ve taken the light unto me, I’ve seen the joy and awe on a people’s face who had not seen night in a century—if it is my sacrifice which brings them this joy, not to mention save the lives of more than I can fathom, who am I to deny them? So many I love have given themselves so others could live, enjoy a fuller existence—and every time I have wondered, why not me instead? Now, I know. I am long overdue to join them. They earned me this chance to help generations upon generations, and I intend to use it.

I can hear you scolding me right now. “Sahri,” you’d say. “Your parents died to give you this life—you cannot simply throw it away. You must live it.” And if you believe I’ve done a dishonour to my parents’ memory, I will not begrudge you. In my perspective, though, it was a life well lived. Filled with uncountable sorrows, yet even more joys. Lady Lukah—No. Mother. My mother, as true as the one who gave me life. I treasure the days we spent living humbly amongst the Twelveswood’s bounty. You taught me a respect for the world and the natural order of life, how kindness shared with others begets unity among peoples. And simply how kindness turns difficult lives into joyful ones. I know that when I was a child I likely made your heart stop more than once when I disappeared to explore the woods, or to work on my latest art project—but please know this was all a sign of an unflinching happiness you gifted me. Even as that dreadful wall rose to scar the horizon, I smiled on thanks to your kindness. Thank you. Thank you, Mother. I would not be the woman I am today were it not for you, and I will never be more grateful. 

Needless to say, all the gil and possessions I’ve accumulated through my journeys belong to you, now. You may do with them as you please, though I might request you share some with the Scions—let it be my final gift and thanks to them. If it is not too much trouble, could you also do me a favour and visit the grave of a Lord Haurchefant in my stead? It is located in the Holy See of Ishgard—my friends in House Fortemps would be glad to point the way. Let him know I will not be coming back—that even now, my thoughts lay with him, and my love burns ever as strong as it did the last day I held him in my arms. No matter what fate befalls me, he will be in my heart.

It’s very possible my soul will not return to the Lifestream as it should. That I will not go on to continue in the cycle of nature you taught me to so revere. Should that happen, I have another thought for you. Here, amongst the very company with which I write this letter, there is a belief—that souls do not return to the earth, yet instead soar towards the heavens to be caught in the sunless sea of night. I feel that this sky may well be what I drift towards instead. So, Mother—when you look up at the night sky and see the stars twinkling, think of me. For I’m looking down at you, smiling. 

I love you. Thank you for all you’ve given me.

\--Sahri


End file.
